Oh hello there, I wasn’t expecting you! (Puts down half empty whiskey bottle.) It’s me, your old pal Wanye Gretz, and I’m visiting 1966 disguised as an old man in a natty grey suit. Does anyone know the name of the giant silver cup sitting next to me on my desk? Did someone say The Stanley Cup? Right you are, well done, lambs!

Some of you might be wondering “Wanye, is this a boil or a mole on my arm?” Others still might be asking themselves “Wanye, why are you disguised as an old man sitting with the Stanley Cup?” Both good questions.

First: that isn’t a mole or a boil. It’s an M&M. And second, I’ve fired up the OilersNation Stanley Cup Time Machine™ to go back in time to September 11, 1966 and witness the birth of Troy Crosby—father to Sidney Crosby. You see I’m firmly of the belief that the Penguins are going to defeat the Philadelphia Flyers in the Eastern Conference championships in 2008, and this is going to be in large part because of the son of Troy.

So I brought the Stanley Cup here to Halifax and disguised myself as a doctor of this era and will be delivering Troy into this world. I want the first thing he sees to be Lord Stanley’s Mug so that he understands from a very early age that his sole purpose in life is to meet Trina Forbes, marry her, and one night over a box of wine and an Air Supply record produce what will ultimately become the captain of the Pittsburgh Penguins in 2008.

So I have to go, lambs, but I want you to remember this: if I can go back in time, I can also go forward. This means I know how everything works out in the end so I will leave you with this:

The new look for 2009 will be three-legged jeans. Any of you fashion-forward people in the Nation can look forward to looking like real assholes for the next 24 months with an extra pant leg dragging on the ground.

Penguins over the Flyers in seven—you can count on it so bet the farm. If you don’t have a farm, sign over the farm of someone you know and rest easy knowing it’s a lock.

Pitkanen doesn’t ever win a Norris Trophy, so knock off all the stupidity speculating that he will.

So until I return to your time, farewell! I can hear Grandma Crosby going into labour...

(Raises the Cup over his head and exits the office.)

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